Ready Or Not (The Hunter’s Club #2)

Chapter 42

42

HEATHEN - n9neful

I give the women a night. It takes me a whole night not to storm in there and manhandle the information out of them the way I want to.

But that would be impulsive. What’s the rush? Riley is mine now. Rachel too.

That fact doesn’t keep me from watching the live feeds like they’re my heroin and I’m dope sick. I fall asleep with the feed on.

When I wake up, I realize I’ve slept longer than I meant to. I curse, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, and I finally allow myself to go to Riley’s door.

When I open it, Riley is sitting on the bed…naked.

I stand there, momentarily stunned. I’ve seen her naked before, but each time, she’s just as stunning. She’s covered in dark tattoos that trace up her arms, over her collarbones, and all down her thighs. My eyes lock on those toned legs, legs I want to spread open as she fights me. As I look, I lock on the Medusa tattoo on her hip. My eyes narrow, and my stomach clenches.

A Medusa tattoo. When I first saw Riley get it, I thought it was just because it fit her aesthetic.

Riley clears her throat, and I snap my gaze at her. She smiles sweetly at me. “Eyes are up here, Mr. Kennedy.”

I shake myself out of my head. I came in here for a reason. “Rachel, let’s go.” It takes everything in my power not to look down at Riley’s tits. Her perfect, round tits that I know are hanging nicely. She’s doing this on purpose.

Riley jumps up, and out of the corner of my eye, I catch her tits bounce. “Wait. I want to make a deal.”

I clench my jaw. “Rachel, come.”

“I’ll tell you about Noel if you let me out of this room.”

“No.” A free Riley is a dangerous Riley—to herself and others.

“Please.” She pouts her bottom lip out, which does nothing but make me want to bite it as she cries under me.

Rachel clears her throat and looks at me. Then, she gives Riley a tiny glance.

I stare at Rachel. Is she suggesting that I hear Riley out? How will letting her manipulate me help her love me?

“I’ll stay in the house. I just need out of this room.”

I stare at Riley, calculating, thinking through every potential problem. There are a lot of them.

Riley frowns. “Fine, I’ll just keep my mouth shut then.”

I can feel Rachel’s gaze on me.

I cross my arms. “You can come downstairs to make breakfast.”

“Sold.” Riley claps her hands.

“You’re coming upstairs right after.”

“What, afraid I’ll charm your dick into letting me go?”

I snap my glare at Riley. Which is a mistake because she just gives me a pretty smile and said dick bobs in response.

“I mean it.” I narrow my gaze so I see less of her tits.

“What am I going to do, Manson? You’re right here, and you have locks on all the doors. Disappear into thin air? Teleport?” She picks at her nails. Which are perfect.

I just cock my eyebrow. All the doors are padlocked shut, and my windows are nailed down. I’ve been planning this for a very long time. There’s no escape from this house without my permission. But somehow, this is still a bad idea. A very bad idea.

Rachel is standing just outside of reaching distance, so I lean over to grab her arm. “I’ll put Rachel away, and then we’ll talk.”

“Yay!” Riley bounces up and places a kiss on my cheek.

Instantly, all the blood rushes to my dick, and I snap out my free hand, grab Riley by the throat, and yank her to me for a real kiss. As her lips smash into mine, I inhale her sweet scent, and it almost— almost— makes me not regret my decision. I yank her away from me. “You still have to talk.”

Riley smiles up at me, and her gaze is nothing but trouble. “Of course. Noel–”

“Not here,” I cut her off. I won’t have my wife’s secrets aired in front of everyone. Especially not when she’s still naked, and I have her yanked so close to me that she’s also touching Rachel. It looks erotic, both of their soft bodies pressed together.

I pull them apart immediately.

Riley crosses her arms and shakes out of my grip. “She can hear what I have to say.”

I glare at her. “No. Let’s go, Rachel.”

“Noel raped me, Manson.”

My world slows. As the words sink into the room, there’s deafening silence. I knew this, but hearing her say it makes it horrifyingly real.

“He raped me when I was a kid. A lot.”

Rachel is frozen in my grasp.

I clench my jaw and look down at my wife—at her beautiful, soft, stubborn face. I don’t see pain in her eyes, but I feel it in my own. In fact, I don’t see much in her at all. It’s like she’s…gone.

And I want her back.

“I don’t remember a lot, Manson. But no, yours wasn’t the first dick I fucked. Happy?” Riley throws on a fake smile.

Anger fills me. Is that why she thinks I want to know? Does she think that poorly of me?

I snarl, “No. Not happy. Let’s go.” I yank Rachel with me. I’ll put her away, and then I’ll deal with Riley.

“Grab some clothes,” I snap. No way in hell I can focus with her looking like that.

Halfway down the stairs with Rachel, she trips. I yank her up before she hurls headlong into the bottom step, but her motion has pulled her in front of me. She grips my torso, looking up at me with something like panic in her eyes. “Don’t take me back to the basement.”

“Let’s go.” It’s hard to see where my next step will fall with her limbs all over me. That, plus Riley’s opinion of me, fills me with rage.

“Please!” Rachel just holds me tighter.

I rip her up into my arms, and she starts struggling. “No! Please! I’ll be good!”

“Rachel!” Riley snaps, bumping into me as I clear the bottom step. “Chill.”

Rachel lets loose a blood-curdling scream, thrashing back and forth. She’s not big, but she has surprising strength, and I have to actually hold onto her to keep her from thrashing loose. I cart her through the kitchen and to the top of the stairs, where her limbs hit the doorframe as she thrashes.

“You need help, Manson?” There’s a mocking laugh in Riley’s tone. “Looks like you’re struggling a bit, big boy.”

I shove Rachel through the basement doorway, then glare at Riley for a second before Rachel’s movement almost causes me to fall down the stairs. She threw clothes on, thank Satan. “Don’t go anywhere.”

Riley snorts. “Go where? You have a portal in here I don’t know about?”

I grunt, carting Rachel the rest of the way. She fights like she’s lost her mind until I’ve chained her up again. My hands shake as I do it.

“Manson, wait.” Rachel grabs my arm, and I shake her off, only for her to grab me again.

“We have to talk. About Riley.”

“Get off me.”

“She has to trust you.”

I stare at Rachel, realizing what she’s saying. She’s covering for Riley. Fear rushes through me, and I start to rush up the stairs.

“She’s not running!” Rachel gasps. “You’re being reckless! Just listen!”

I slow, halfway to the top of the stairs. I know she can’t get out, but some animalistic part of my brain wants to chase her down.

But I’m not fucking reckless. Riley can’t go anywhere; this house is locked down.

I turn back to Rachel. “What did you do?”

Rachel bites her lip. “Promise you won’t get mad.”

“What did you do?” My words come out a growl.

“Riley doesn’t trust you.” Rachel looks at me like she expects me to jump down on her. She’s as far back as the chain will allow. “And she’ll never love you if she doesn’t trust you.”

This is ridiculous. Riley has every reason to trust me. I’ve done everything for her. I turn to go up the stairs.

“Wait! Think about this.”

Rachel looks startled when I snap my gaze to hers. “I have thought about it. It’s all I ever think about.”

“Then give her space,” she pleads. “Whatever Riley’s doing, you can track it, right?”

“That depends on what she’s doing.” I clench my teeth so hard they grind together. I might have to chain both of them up, depending on what Riley’s doing.

“I think she’s making a call. I don’t know, though!”

I pat my back pocket. Sure enough, my phone is missing.

“Wait!” Rachel takes a step toward me as I take one up the steps. “You have to get Riley to trust you.”

“How?” I whirl on Rachel. This arrangement is stupid. So far, all I’ve seen is Rachel getting in the way of my plans.

Rachel swallows. “ You have to trust her .” Her voice drops. “Stop controlling every little piece of her life.”

Anger washes through me in a hot wave. Not control her? My control is the only thing that’s kept Riley safe, out of prison, and with a roof over her head. I’ll control every last breath she takes, and she’ll thank me for it.

I storm the rest of the way up the steps.